


Misty Day Scraps

by PoppyCrowns



Series: Consecrated Memories [2]
Category: Silent Hill (Video Game Series)
Genre: A LOT OF DIALOGUE, Drabble Collection, Drabble Sequence, From 1 to 4 at least, Older Characters, Other, Post All Silent Hills, Years Later, sapphic vibes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-15
Updated: 2021-02-05
Packaged: 2021-03-13 09:21:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 4,537
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28775988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PoppyCrowns/pseuds/PoppyCrowns
Summary: Laura pulls the moving to a new place for a fresh start and you won't believe where she ends up and who she meets.Warm-up drabbles from various first sentence prompts that could have been random, but instead follow some sort of continuity. It picks up a bit from my previous work, but it's not absolutely necessary to read it.
Relationships: Laura & Heather Mason
Series: Consecrated Memories [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2109765
Comments: 6
Kudos: 3





	1. Chapter 1

She’d only given in because she was lonely. Otherwise she would have never talked. She would have never partaken in such lengthy conversations at the corner store, of all places.

But she was lonely.

Julia Nance was really lonely, and Laura Shepherd was really kind. Even if it didn’t always look like that.

So it happened.

Once again, a glimmer of a newfound friendship began to make itself more and more present in the rapid span of a single year, even though Laura knew better than grasping for meager crumbs of hope like a stupid pigeon in the park.

It all started with a casual encounter between her occasional need of commenting on purchases and a box of Benadryl.

“Got allergies, huh?” she said, while scanning it.

Julia looked up and smiled, in a somewhat mortified manner.

“Oh no, just trouble sleeping.” she replied “I heard this could be good for that, too.”

And she was just some girl back then. Some antsy girl who was definitely going through the perks of the teenage years, which mostly entailed either a lot of anger or a lot of sadness.

In Laura’s case it had been naturally the former, perpetually fuelled by one disappointment after another.

One neglectful group home after another, one merciless part-time job after another, one short-lived relationship after another…

Even now, as a young adult, she was still a little angry.

But not Julia. Julia was clearly leaning towards the latter, with those wistful eyes and that discouraged posture. And the stated sleep deprivation that surely didn’t help in the slightest.

“Really?” inquired Laura, with a detectable tinge of concern in her voice “What about warm milk or chamomile tea, have you tried any of those?”

Getting the gloomy teen to blink in quiet surprise, as if facing some highly unexpected scenario.

And it made sense.

She was just some girl, some customer, and Laura was just the retail worker who didn’t know her and didn’t have to. And certainly had no business throwing therapeutic suggestions around.

“I mean…” she continued, wanting to explain herself “I’m just saying, I’m not gonna tell you how to run your life-”

“It’s okay!” interrupted Julia, rather gently “Pills are just kinda scary sometimes, aren’t they?”

Rather sounding like she was, in fact, appreciating the concern. Welcoming it, even.

Making the interaction less awkward and more manageable for Laura.

“Not so much if they’re OTC, to be fair.” she replied, at ease “But it’s still something you gotta be careful with, ya know? Because of the side effects and stuff…”

“I know, I know…” nodded Julia, pushing some stray hair behind an ear “I’ve tried a lot…”

To then trail off and leave the sentence hanging, so she could look back down. So she could greedily pry some more precious concern out of Laura.

“…Of pills?” she guessed, doing her best to keep her cool.

Julia shook her head, and then buried it between her shoulders.

“Treatments.” she corrected, fiddling with her fingers “ _Other_ treatments. My foster parents don’t like pills.”

And that was it.

Laura was pretty sure that was when it decidedly happened. That was when she became morally obligated to watch over this girl.

As soon as she heard those two words.


	2. Chapter 2

“Were you ever going to tell me?”

Laura glanced over, as the pencil stopped and patiently waited for her. Lingered in her hand.

She knew Julia was there. She had been there for a while. Leaning against the counter, as usual. Basking in the liminal peace and quiet of an empty store during a lazy Sunday. As usual.

It was the only day they could pretty much hang out without a problem.

“That you’re an artist, I mean…” clarified the younger girl, fingers timidly interlaced “That looks good.”

Laura then blinked, and glanced back at her current sketch.

“You think so?”

It was a vaguely realistic cat’s face, which she had been copying from a tacky calendar on the wall, to her left. It was one of those infamous 'Hang in there!’ cats.

“Yeah!” assured Julia, looking at the calendar herself “It’s as cute as the original… Do you like cats, Laura?”

The pencil then went down, upon deciding to take a break.

“I don’t know.” replied Laura, with a bit of a smirk “Maybe I do.”

Managing to snatch a bright chuckle from the other.

It wasn’t like Julia rarely smiled or laughed, however. She did. It just felt… _faded_ most of the time. Spiritless. Like she wasn’t truly enjoying herself but rather _trying_ to.

But not now, at least. This particular chuckle had sounded pretty genuine in Laura’s opinion. She wanted to believe so.

“…Yeah, okay, I do.” she added, with the same teasing tone, as she flipped through the rest of the sketchbook to reveal more cats in different positions.

“Aww, look at them all…” muttered Julia, leaning in for a better view.

Appreciating the feline portraits, but also noticing the passing glimpses of other subjects, like plants and buildings. And some people…

“You’re _very_ good at this, Laura.” she reaffirmed “You should, like… exhibit them! Like, at the gallery? Have you seen it?”

Laura then blinked, and glanced back at those blue eyes, at that innocent spark of theirs.

“You mean the Hilltop one?” she replied, a hand landing on her hip as she did so “Yeah, couple of times. Kinda snobbish if you ask me. Way too much Freudian babble and no cats.”

“What? _Really?_ Not a single one?” piped Julia, to then look away for a second “Huh… Guess they’re not as interesting as… um, whatever that abstract stuff was…”

Laura snickered.

“You gotta be more specific than that, hun, they’re _always_ bringing abstract stuff.” she said, crossing her arms and briefly shaking her head “They just know everybody loves it, everybody loves going wild figuring out what all those random splatters are supposed to represent.”

“Represen- _Hold on._ ” frowned Julia “You’re telling me the random splatters aren’t just… random splatters?”

And now her tone was rather ambiguous, rather wavering. Standing somewhere between actual question and joke.

Considering to settle for actual question disguised as a joke, to avoid humiliation.

“Uuuhh, _no?_ ” replied Laura, perceiving a joke and retorting accordingly “It obviously goes deeper than that like, seriously, _where have you been?_ It’s a struggle, Julia, the daily struggles of the human mind! Jeez…”

And amusingly enough to earn another honest chuckle from the gloomy girl, and then chuckle herself.

“You sound just like Terry!” chirped Julia, with a hand on her mouth “Sometimes he comes to the café in this… artsy mood and talks about the exhibits, asks me if I’ve seen them and what I thought, and I… I never have anything to say, so he keeps talking, talks about _his_ thoughts and…”

Laura blinked.

“Who’s Terry?”


	3. Chapter 3

“Never thought something so beautiful could exist in nature…”

“It’s a fucking cloud at ground level, Terry. Get off your fucking stoned horse.”

Terry laughed. That was so typical of Nate.

Julia had just started working at Last Drop Café and therefore had no idea about its regulars, but that was so typical of Nate.

“Someone’s gonna get killed if it doesn’t disappear soon.” he added, to then sulkily sip his espresso “Stupid fog…”

And it was indeed quite foggy outside. It could be promptly confirmed with a quick look through any of the windows, which Julia had already taken while delivering orders.

The place wasn’t too big, so it never got too hectic. She could come and go calmly, leisurely. It was a relatively peaceful job.

A surprisingly smooth first step into the teenager’s path to independence.

“What do you think it could mean?” asked Terry, turning back to her.

And it was odd. He had already done it before, but it was still odd. The way he addressed her, and came up with these questions.

Julia was just some girl. Some waitress.

“That there’s a lot of water in the air?” she guessed, cluelessly.

Terry laughed again.

“You don’t delve much into signs, do you, Julia?” he said, and for some reason it made her feel awfully embarrassed, like she had just failed the easiest test.

“Signs…?”

“There it goes again…” groaned Nate in the background.

“Yeah, like hints. Omens. Things that could be trying to send you a message.” continued Terry, ignoring him “Most people call them coincidences, but… I don’t know, it’s just fun to think it’s all connected, that some things happen because they _have_ to, because someone… or _something_ says so…”

Julia blinked.

Tucked some hair behind an ear.

Ruminated on this quirky young man and these quirky thoughts of his, to which she couldn’t possibly relate. It just didn’t sound as fun to her, to consider that maybe she was always being watched and pulled towards specific directions. That even her most conscious choices could have been influenced somehow, planned in advance.

It unsettled her.

“I see…” she muttered “So the fog… You think the fog’s a message?”

Terry shrugged.

“It _could_ be!” he replied “If you _wanted_ it to.”

But she didn’t.

She didn’t want it to.

“Well, uh…” she fumbled, fiddling with her apron and then offering an apologetic smile “Right now I just want to get by…”

And that was so sweet of her. So adorably pitiful.

“Of course.” nodded Terry “You’re down to earth, and I respect that. It’s very wise.”

To then nonchalantly sip his cappuccino, and once again evoke that sense of indefinite shame within her.

“Good to know…” she sighed.


	4. Chapter 4

“Do you love the guy or not?”

Julia jolted up.

_Love?_

She was just sharing a little workplace anecdote! Just elaborating on a particular individual known as Terry, in response to Laura’s inquiry regarding who he was…

How exactly had they gone from that to _this_?

She hadn’t even implied, hadn’t even _considered_ being attracted to him. They just had talked, and that was about it.

“It’s important to get these things cleared up right away.” added Laura, guessing the younger girl’s stupefaction as she resumed her drawing “So guys don’t misinterpret anything and don’t act like idiots.”

Julia squinted.

“Well, no.” she replied “I don’t.”

So firmly that no corroboration was required. Instead, the older girl opted to wrap up the subject with one more piece of bitter advice.

“Okay.” she said “Make sure he gets it. Spell it out for him if you have to.”

But Julia didn’t think she would have to. She shook her head.

“I don’t think he likes me that way, Laura, he’s in college…”

“Not an issue.” stated Laura.

Making her look _slightly_ annoyed, but mostly troubled. Worried about such assumption.

“We just met, too.” she continued “He doesn’t know anything about me.”

“Not an issue.”

“Why, we don’t even know if he’s already seeing someone! And he doesn’t know if _I’m_ already seeing someone either-”

“Usually? Not an issue.”

The pencil kept dancing across the page, tweaking some more details. Giving some more life to the cat.

It was almost ready to leap out.

“Sometimes I hate that I had to deal with all of that.” stated Laura, after a fluttery minute or two “But it kinda helps in the end… you know? Kinda builds up. What doesn’t kill you and all that jazz.”

“Mmhm…”

Julia had been shying away, searching for a comfortable spot to absently stare at, and was now focusing on the store’s front doors. On the glass. On the weather outside.

On the fog.

“It’s been like this a lot lately…” she murmured.


	5. Chapter 5

“What on earth are you up to?”

The woman turned around.

Her hair was short and black, and her eyes were obscured by sunglasses. Maybe that was what was making her look so relatively suspicious.

“You think I haven’t seen it?” continued Laura, with both hands on her hips “The way you’ve been creeping around like a total weirdo?”

And that deliciously taunting tone of hers, with which she just _loved_ to put people in their place.

She had already seen this woman before, circling the building like some sort of apparition, and she had already brought it up with the other tenants. After little to no action was taken, she figured this would be her moment.

Her time to leave a mark on this uneventful neighborhood.

“Well, think again, hun. You ain’t slick.” she concluded, leaning forward.

And it would have been great.

It would have been amazing, if her target reacted accordingly. If she cowered before these razor-sharp words.

But, unfortunately, she didn’t.

“Good afternoon to you too.” she said, in the most unimpressed manner “I’m just visiting, don’t mind me.”

And then she turned away to keep walking, clearly intending to end the conversation there.

But Laura wasn’t done talking.

“Oh, _really_?” she persisted, hurrying to follow her “Visiting who?”

Like hell she was going to let it end in such unsatisfying note. There was some blatant mystery surrounding this stalking act, and she had to solve at least a bit of it.

She had to make sure it wasn’t another of those insane ritualistic schemes, that this wasn’t another South Ashfield Heights in progress.

As if sensing these thoughts, the woman stopped in her tracks while letting out a heavy sigh.

“…My old home.” she replied, turning back to the brash blonde “I grew up in this building, okay? It means a lot to me, so sometimes I like coming back to see it.”

And that should have been an acceptable explanation.

No, that _had been_ an acceptable explanation. Laura had no reason to keep distrusting, and yet she did. She did keep distrusting, painting serial killer scenarios in her head.

Maybe that late night documentary had managed to influence her after all. It certainly didn’t make a favourable team with her general wariness.

“Where did you live?” she asked, her tone now beginning to simmer down “I mean, which apartment?”

As much as she relished hostility, she had to acknowledge that it wouldn’t do much in this case. This woman felt like a hardened soldier who had no fear left in her body.

“Room 102.” she answered.

To then approach the building’s back door and tiredly sit on its little staircase, unaware of how actually surprising that reveal had been.

“Wh- _Really!?_ That’s where _I’m_ living!”

At least until Laura voiced it.


	6. Chapter 6

“Cheryl’s my name. At least the name I’m using this month.”

Laura raised an eyebrow, and crossed her arms while fully leaning against the railing.

“This month?” she inquired, looking down at the staircase on which her shady suspect was still sitting “What are you, an agent or something? Who do you work for?”

And the sarcasm was palpable. She could be really expressive when it came to talking.

“Myself.” replied Cheryl.

Providing a vague, yet somewhat valid fact for her feisty interrogator to go along with.

“Freelancer, huh? I heard it’s a tough market.” she said, now resting her arms on the railing “I’m Laura. Retail slave.”

And that seemed to make something click.

That seemed to make the mysterious woman blink and ponder for a second, her amber gaze bristling from behind the sunglasses. A seriously bizarre thing to wear when there wasn’t any sunlight around.

“Nice to meet you.” she replied, looking back at the blonde “Even if you think I’m a serial killer.”

And then smirking a bit at her naturally startled reaction, and the immediate scoff that followed to play it off.

“You _wish_ I thought that, you sick freak.” she jeered, with a saucier smirk “But nah, you’re more like a plain old creep to me. No big deal. Cops are gonna ditch you in a week.”

“Thank god.” retorted Cheryl “Because I still have some more stops to make.”

“Some more nostalgic stops?” asked Laura, giving her a more quizzical look as she ran both hands through her darker hair and pulled out her mental list of landmarks.

Hilltop Center, Hazel Street, Central Square…

“You could say, yeah. It’s always fun to walk down memory lane.” she replied, despite her not precisely ecstatic expression.

If anything, she seemed rather burnt out.

“I can see that.” snarked Laura, drumming her fingers on the railing “How often do you do it?”

Cheryl shrugged.

“I don’t know, just…”

“Whenever you’re sad?” figured Laura, once again making her ponder.

“…Maybe.”

Yeah, maybe.

Maybe her life wasn’t going too well either.

Maybe this was her solace. These vestiges of a happier past.

And that was fine. That was understandable. Laura couldn’t help but inwardly admit that she would do the same, if she had anywhere to visit. Anywhere to return to. Any minimal semblance of a home.

Cheryl was really lucky.

“Well, better to have had and lost than never to have had at all, right?” she concluded, doing her best to not stray from the lighter tone.

But she got no response, because Cheryl had reclaimed her role as the mysterious woman to suddenly stare into space.

 _“Shepherd. Laura Shepherd.”_ said Douglas’ voice, from a retrieved memory _“She was the one who did the talking, old Frank just stayed in the background the whole time. She sounded pretty sh-”_

“Cheryl?”

Then she blinked, and turned. Looked back at Laura. She was tilting her head.

“You okay there?” she inquired “Thinking about murder or what?”

Cheryl kept looking at her. Pondered a little more.

And then looked back at the street.

“Ah, yeah. Always.” she replied, and then sighed “That Holy Mother, man… You’d get it if you met her…”


	7. Chapter 7

“I don’t know what normal is.” concluded Laura, with a comical shrug “I thought I did once, but I don’t anymore.”

Julia chuckled faintly. She had gotten ahold of her sketchbook, while the blonde was distracted fishing her cherished peanut butter Ritz Bits out of her messy purse, and was now looking through it.

“She doesn’t sound that weird to me though, just like she misses her hometown.” she said “Sometimes I wish I could go visit my old home too, but it’s so far from here… I wonder if it’s far for her…”

“I don’t think so, I’ve seen her around _a lot_.” replied Laura, with her chin on a hand “But who knows, maybe it’s a long as hell trip and she just doesn’t mind taking it every time…”

Staring at an ice cream sale in a corner. Pineapple and coconut ice cream, apparently.

“Alas, poor Cheryl. Even though we don’t know her very well.” mused Julia, still looking into the sketchbook.

Making its owner nod somewhat solemnly.

“It was pretty foggy too, that day…” she said, now glancing through the glass doors “I guess I got reminded…”

Reflecting on things, on other reminders that she wasn’t as willing to address. Not entirely at least, not without avoiding or distorting some parts.

It was complicated.

“What’s with the damn fog anyway?” she asked, after a miffed minute or two “Is there some pea soup season around here that I wasn’t filled in about? It’s been like just a year since I moved in, so-”

“I’m not sure.” replied Julia “I don’t remember seeing it before, but…”

To then trail off. Pause for a wavering moment, as she turned yet another page and encountered the gentle face of a woman.

It looked lovely, for such a rough and haphazard sketch that barely managed to detail her features. Like someone Laura hadn’t copied, but rather attempted to draw from memory. Without any reference.

Repeatedly. All over the paper.

And always in the same manner. Always with the same frantic, hesitant strokes, as if struggling to remember.

It was intriguing.

“It’s been a year for me too, since I came back from boarding school, so there’s a lot of things I don’t remember very well.” resumed Julia, deciding to not rudely change the subject.

“ _Boarding school?_ ” piped Laura, turning back to her and then shaking her head in disbelief “Some foster parents! Where did you even get them?”

And the gloomy teen could only shrink and fiddle with the collar of her blouse, as if being shamed.

“They were friends with my mom.” she replied “They’d always watch me when she was out at work…”

The resulting inquiry was outright inevitable.

“And what happened?”

Julia looked down, making it evident, but said it anyway.

“She died.”

And that explained a lot. Put some context behind her recurring sadness, and some sympathy within Laura.

“Damn, I’m sorry…” she muttered, as the younger girl handed the sketchbook back to her.

“It’s okay, it was long ago.” she replied “They’ve been taking care of me since then, Mr. and Mrs. Baldwin…”

And now she was the one looking at the pineapple and coconut ice cream, and Laura was blinking in surprise.

“Wait, what? _Baldwin?_ ” she jolted “I know those guys! They’re- It’s the rich couple that lives in the house with the wattles!”


	8. Chapter 8

“Has anybody ever told you that you’re as tasteless as a potato pancake?” jeered Laura.

Cheryl squinted behind her sunglasses.

“Yeah.” she replied, turning back to the blonde “Just now.”

And predictably getting an unamused expression for it.

“Seriously.” continued Laura “You’re already at the mall, do yourself a favor and get something that isn’t Members Only.”

The older woman then fixed her jacket somewhat protectively, as if actually expecting the younger one to snatch it and set it on fire at any given moment.

“You’re pretty damn brutal for someone who barely knows me.” she said, upon taking one last disapproving look at Sunshine Princess’ outrageous prices and moving on “When exactly did we become best friends?”

Sure, they had already crossed paths more than once and Laura had already tagged along more than once, but none of that meant anything. It didn’t have to.

“When you kept talking back.” replied the blonde, with a flip of her ponytail “Should have thought twice before trying to outsass me.”

And she had a point.

Cheryl hated it, but she had a point.

She could have ignored her, she could have walked away.

Yet she didn’t.

And she hadn’t even been intimidated, much less offended by Laura’s words during their first proper interaction.

Just…

Talkative? She supposed?

It was weird. She was weird.

“Right. My bad.” she acknowledged, albeit in an entirely sarcastic manner, as they reached My Bestsellers.

Then she stopped, and observed.

It was another landmark.

But from a different list, from a different era. When she used to work there and pretend that she could just bounce back into a normal life. The bumpy ride that had been the post Silent Hill era and its mandatory five stages of grief, one for each year until she fully decided to reconnect with the tainted town. To keep a close watch on whatever was left of its bullshit, as she’d put it.

Especially after learning that God’s will was still out there, grasping for more believers and more places of worship…

It would eventually track her down again anyway. She would be dragged back in, she just _knew_ , and hell if she was going to let herself get caught off guard.

“There’s a Ring of Fire 3 now?” commented Laura, after stopping and observing along.

And that was rather relieving to hear for Cheryl, as it confirmed that she wasn’t the only one seeing that eerily coincidental selection of book titles on display.

Ring of Fire, Man Seeks God, The Dead Town, All Hell Let Loose, A Monster Calls…

If they were in the fog world, it would have been a direct taunt.

“Some kid I met once loved that book- The first one, no idea about the second one…” continued Laura, almost wistfully, to then look back at her companion “Do you like reading?”

Cheryl seemed to straighten up, as if getting rid of the spine crushing weight of her thoughts.

“Yeah, from time to time.” she replied, and the blonde nodded.

“I’ve checked some books out myself, but nothing too fancy…” she said, putting a hand on her chin “Got any you’d recommend?”

And that was so weird. Laura was weird, too.

The way she just fluctuated between gratuitous insults and an actual conversation, making her intentions some riddle for the ages. Cheryl figured she was trying to befriend her, but couldn’t care less about social skills.

Maybe she was conflicted. Maybe she was afraid of bonding, but still couldn’t help craving some casual banter. Maybe she was lonely. Maybe…

Maybe Cheryl was projecting, and hated it.

“…Ever heard of Tirn Aill?”

Laura blinked.

“Tirn Aill?”

“It’s a book series about a girl who can jump into another world.” continued the older woman, as she proceeded to resume her idle walk through the mall “Pretty good if you like fantasy and mystery stuff, I read it when I was like twelve but I think adults can enjoy it too, my dad liked it a lot…”

“Bold of you to assume that I’m an adult.” scoffed the younger one, resuming after her “Sounds cool though, I’ll check it. Thanks.”

Cheryl rolled her eyes behind her sunglasses, but also smiled a little.

“No problem.”


	9. Chapter 9

“There’s nothing mightier than the meek.” stated Laura, emulating the dignified intonation of an aristocratic woman “For only their faithful resilience will pave the safest way to righteousness… or something like that.”

Julia stifled an unruly chuckle and nodded.

“Something like that, yes.” she said, and the blonde grinned and took another handful of Ritz Bits.

“Yeah, we saw her. Mrs. Baldwin.” she continued, after eating them “She was chatting with the pamphlet guys. Cheryl turned around and kinda noped out like they were out for blood, and it was a little weird but fair. I guess. I’m not the biggest fan of religion either, but I know how much it can mean to some people…”

And then paused for a pensive minute, during which her younger companion sheepishly reached for the snacks herself, since she had already been encouraged to do so.

“It’s important for her.” she attested, after taking and eating just one “It makes her feel… fulfilled, I think…”

It got Laura wondering, as usual.

Wondering, speculating. Leaning forward. Taking notice of Julia’s characteristic fidgeting, of the restless fingers tugging at a sleeve.

“What’s she like at home? Does she ever get difficult…?” she inquired.

And it didn’t seem to upset the teenager as much as she thought it could, as Julia looked away rather calmly. Contemplatively.

“Not really, no…” she replied, her blue gaze once again lingering on the glass doors.

Glimpsing a figure within the fog outside. A small, childlike figure crying its eyes out.

It incited a dreary smile.

“…If anything, I’m the one who doesn’t behave.” she added, and Laura kept wondering.

Laura kept wondering because she couldn’t see it, because it was just a hazy memory.

Because most things in Julia’s life, most things in Julia’s head were hazy.

She was a compelling mystery, just like Cheryl.

“Speaking of, though…” she continued, before the mystified blonde could inquire further “I should get going, it’s getting late.”

“ _Is it?_ ” squinted Laura, taking her own look at the doors and then snickering briefly “I don’t know, I still can’t see a thing…”


End file.
